


A Cure for Fear

by PaulineHolmes02



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John Watson, Comforting John, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Sherlock, John Watson Goes on Dates, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining Sherlock Holmes, Scared Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Needs a Hug, Sherlock Texting, Thunder and Lightning, Thunderstorms, Vulnerable Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 08:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19147543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulineHolmes02/pseuds/PaulineHolmes02
Summary: John's on the date with his girlfriend when he receives quite weird messages from his flatmate. How is he going to deal with the pining Consulting Detective?





	1. Chapter 1

John Watson was sitting at the furthest table in the restaurant, right beside the window. He took the glance outside to the street. The pavement shone like silver, because of the heavy rain which kept falling from the dark sky. His watches told him that it was quarter past eight, it was quite early for the darkness to fall, but it was logical - the dark clouds accumulated the thick layer which didn't allow the sun to penetrate through it.

John decided to take his girlfriend to an Italian restaurant Zizzi in Paddington Street. The interior was beautiful - decorative dry trees gave them an impression of wildness and the scanty lightning made of lights hanging from the ceiling created a very romantic and intimate atmosphere.  
The food was very good, the couple shared a pizza and then they ordered coffee with ice-cream and whipped cream.

John took a small sip from his cup and smiled at his companion, at a nice ginger girl with a cute round face who sat at the opposite side of the table was playing with the spoon in her coffee and created some pictures in the cream.

Susan worked as a teacher at elementary school.

She raised her eyes and gave him a smile as well. But she was careful not to show her teeth, because of her braces, she was very sensitive about her slightly crooked incisors and canines. But John didn't mind, it was completely normal - nobody's perfect.

" And how's your work going? What about those little bastards? Do they behave?"  
John asked but cursed himself immediately. Who talks about the work on the date? The truth was that the doctor was a little nervous, which really surprised him. He has always been a sassy, quick-witted man, a soldier on top of that... But how was it possible that he could talk with Sherlock about everything, even about the merest crap?

And speaking about his flatmate - he was worried about what could that clodpole damage this time... He looked very disgruntled when realising John had a date. John hoped that he won't ruin his date, for once...

" Well, it's still the same - although they're not 'little'... They're brats..." Susan said, her voice hardened a bit at the end of the sentence.

" Oh, that sounds unpleasant..."

" They are... They are doing whatever they want, they could show some respect..."

John breathed in to answer but choked when he felt buzzing in his pocket. He resisted an urge to howl in frustration - one single date, without interruption - as it seemed, he didn't deserve it...

" I will kill you..." He mumbled when he reached his hand into his pocket.

Susan blinked in confusion. " Sorry, what?" She asked. 

" Nothing, I was just thinking out loud... I just need to arrange this, I'm sorry..." John swore in his mind, Susan had to think he's gone crazy. Well done, Watson, well done... 

" It's fine..."

He took out his old phone he got from Harry and opened it with a password ( which offended Sherlock with its banality. First three times John changed it - into another banal password according to the detective, but now he gave up his attempts to think out a password Sherlock wouldn't figure out.).  
He clicked on the 'received' folder and frowned when he found two unread messages from his flatmate.

 

_FROM : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:23 PM_

_John? - SH_

  
_FROM : Sherlock_  
_Today 08:25 PM_

_John, where are you? - SH_

  
One little date! Did he ask too much?  
John sighed in frustration and began to type an angry reply on the extensible keyboard.

 

_TO : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:25_

_For God's sake, Sherlock! Can't you resist the urge to disturb my date for even one bloody time?!_

  
_FROM : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:26_  
_I yelled at you, but you didn't reply... - SH_

  
_TO : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:26_

_That's a mystery... How could I when I'm in the restaurant with Susan..._

  
_FROM : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:27_

_Well, it slipped out of my mind - SH_

 

John read the last message and decided to ignore him. He locked his phone, putting it down on the table.

" Apologies..." He said and reached out his hand to put it on the top of Susan's, which rested on the snow white lace tablecloth. Their skins were millimetres away from each other, they felt the heat radiating from each other body. They felt like a magnet, their fingers almost brushed, the bolts outside lighted the interior and emphasised the atmosphere... they were so close... And then...

Beep...  
Beep.  
Beep.  
Beep.  
Beep. 

" I'll strangle him, with my own hands and I won't be guilty about it!"  
John took the glance at the closed home page on his phone and gritted his teeth. That git decided to spam his phone... He won't respond, that's it...

  
_FROM : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:28_

_Who's Susan anyway? - SH_

  
_FROM : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:28_

_Is it the one with the braces? - SH_

  
_FROM : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:29_

_John - SH_

  
_FROM : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:29_

_Don't ignore me - SH_

  
_FROM : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:30_

_Jawn!_

 

John sighed " God, he's like a child! It's quite a miraculous that I haven't killed him already..."

" Who? Your flatmate?"

" Yeah, he's insufferable, sometimes. Especially when he stores body parts in the fridge..."

" He seems a bit mad..."

" No, he's just a bit different... He's not very good with people, he needs to nudge in the right direction... But when you get used to it, he's great..." Actually, he had no idea why he was defending the man who successfully ruined every date he had. But it didn't sound right, he simply couldn't stand hearing that his best friend was a mad man...  
Although that didn't mean that he wasn't angry with him. He typed a tempered message and clicked on 'send'.

_TO : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:32_

_Sherlock, what do you need? I'm busy!_

  
_FROM : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:32_

_With what? With snogging her neck? - SH_

  
John gritted his jaw tightly and did his best to not grate his teeth. He was even more annoying and rude than ever. But after all, it was Sherlock Holmes - unpredictable arsehole... He reminded him of the spoiled kid, who are demanding for attention - but only because someone else was talking to him. He suggested that if he sat at home, Sherlock wouldn't even register he's in the flat.

_TO : SHERLOCK_  
_Today 08:33_

_Are you jealous?_

  
John realised that his last message was quite cruel, reminding Sherlock that he was single and the only person who managed to live with him, was John himself. But on his defence - he found the interrupting really annoying.

John shook his head to order his thoughts and shot his girlfriend with an apologising look. He knew that the date was going downhill. He knew that Susan was disappointed, and he needed to fix this unpleasant detail.

Fortunately, there was a pause in Sherlock's messages and it grew longer, the detective didn't contact him from for ten minutes. The couple didn't know that it was only the calm before the storm...  
They continued chatting, about the food they ate, their hobbies and about the heavy rain outside, followed by claps of thunder and lightning.

When the bolt lightened the interior in the restaurant, he realised how beautiful she was. Dark ginger hair fell down from her head on her fell silent and smiled at each other.  
The soldier slowly reached out his arm, careful not to scare her, and curled his hand into a cup. Her brown eyes mirrored a certainty and high self-esteem as if John should feel lucky to just think of the thing he was about to do.

The doctor leaned forward and cupped Susan's soft cheek. Her confident grin even widened when his thumb stroked her temple and slid down to her chin. He put his index finger under her jawline and gently brought her face closer. Susan closed her eyes and let him lead.  
They were getting closer and closer, his lips just a few inches away from her, she could feel his warm breath on her skin, only a few centimetres separated them from the kiss...

And then the doctor's phone rang.

The one stupid call ruined the whole moment, and the whole date John dared to say. He wanted to scream. Not only his friend didn't allow him to have fun, but even he refused to let him kiss his own girlfriend!

" Go ahead..." She said and pointed towards the loos so he could accept the call. But John couldn't get rid of the feeling that her voice hardened a bit.

" Thank you, I'll be right back..." He gave her a smile, which was quite tight because of the nervousness and got up and headed towards Gents.

 

* * *

 

John dashed into the loos and accepted the call. He didn't wait for anything and let the anger which raised inside him the whole evening, out of his body.  
" Sherlock! What the HELL do you think you're doing?! I TOLD you that I have a date, I WROTE to you that I have a date! How many other ways do I need to tell you! Shouldn't I say that in Arabic? Or Chinese?!" He yelled in the phone and didn't give a damn if someone heard him. He never got so angry with Sherlock, he tolerated him, even though his behaviour was bit-not-good. But today was the last straw that broke the camel's back.

" You can give it a try..." Came Sherlock's voice out of the phone, but there were no signs of the cheekiness or sarcasm. It made him sound weird, this didn't belong to him.

But John was tempered, so much he didn't notice the touch of uncertainty in a friend's voice. " I like her a lot! I wanted to make a good impression... And you... How could you?! I look like a complete fool!" The doctor growled. What did Susan have to think about him when he spent almost the whole evening by texting his annoying flatmate.

There was a pause from the opposite side, which was quite unusual for the talkative detective, who spoke, always - at any time, in every place...

John opened his mouth to snap some sarcastic comment but the silence was broken by the weird tone in Sherlock's baritone. " Come home..."

The doctor clenched his teeth, smelling a fish. He suggested that the detective was fibbing, he used his brilliant acting skills to manipulate people like puppets.  
" What? Do you really think that I'll be in the mood for coming back today? Could you just one time behave like an adult and not like a spoiled brat?!" He spat and squeezed his phone in his fist until it almost broke in two pieces.

Sherlock took a shaking breath at the end of the line. " Come home, John... Please..." He mumbled, almost whispered.

" I'm with Susan..." Said the doctor, his voice uninterested and cold like an icicle. " I'm sure you can handle your experiment by yourself..."

 

* * *

 

  
John left the loos and put on his smile as he headed towards the table couple was sitting at. But his grin faded away from his lips when he found out that there was no one. The chair was tucked to the table, unfinished cup of coffee stood at Susan's empty place, the spoon beside the saucer.

God, he lost her... He lost another nice woman because she thought he has something with Sherlock...  
An uncomfortable feeling settled down in his guts, was he really so incapable to keep a girlfriend? As it seemed, he was - his relationship usually lasted one date. But strange as it was, he didn't mind too much, maybe it just hurt his ego a bit...

The movement caught his attention so he turned his head towards the exit and spotted Susan's short figure at the door, preparing to leave.  
John prolonged his step and run after her. He caught up with her at the street. She turned around to face him. They just stood there for a while, the heavy raindrops fell down on them, and the lightning bolts illuminated the street occasionally.

" Susan, I'm sorry for such a miserable evening... The next date won't be like this..." He swore in a panting voice.

The redhead chortled gloomily. " Are you really so naive? Do you think I would like to have another date with you?" Her tone was cutting and venomous.

The doctor ruffled his hair in frustration. He had to fix it somehow..." Susan, I know it was catastrophic, but I will try hard to make it up to you..."  
To John's bad luck, his phone vibrated again and there was no doubt the woman heard it. Her face curled in annoyance and disgust. John knew this kind of face, and it didn't seem good for him. Not at all...  
" Jesus, do you sleep with your phone as well? Or should I say with your creepy flatmate?!" Susan growled, her throat tightened in loathe.

John's round cheeks blushed, but he tried to save the situation for the last time. " Susan, come on... I have nothing with him... He's just my friend." He told her patiently.

The woman folded her arms on her chest and her nose wrinkled. " Who's more important for you than your girlfriend... Your previous one warned me about it - I didn't believe her. But it's obvious - who are you kidding? I may not be a crazy genius, but I'm not that stupid as you think... Just leave me alone. " She spat, turned on her heel and strode away.

John stood there, not able to say a word, he simply gazed at redhead's disappearing figure He didn't know what was worse - if she left him, standing there like a fool or the fact she might have a truth.  
He didn't feel betrayed or offended - the sting of the guilt squeezed his heart. At the beginning of their evening, she expected something, some sign to prove John's previous girlfriend wrong.

The doctor reached his hand to the pocket of his jeans and took off his phone.

One unread message

_FROM : SHERLOCK_

_John, come back - SH_

  
John sighed and began to type, defeated.

  
_TO : SHERLOCK_

_Be careful what you wish for. Because I'll probably bite your head off..._

_FROM : SHERLOCK_

_I don't mind... John, please. I need you..._

John stared at a few words on the shining display. Suddenly he realised something. Sherlock almost never makes calls, he prefers to text... And there he was, calling him right in the middle of his date.  
And his voice, John remembered the tone Sherlock spoke... Sure, the phone distorts the voice a bit, but it sounded strange...  
But begs in their conversation were the last straw, the proof that something was definitely wrong.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, thank you very much for your kudos and beautiful comments, I'm so glad to hear that you like it. The new chapter is here, but be prepared for a bit OOC :).
> 
> Enjoy your reading:)  
> Yours PaulineHolmes02

" Sherlock, what the hell is going on? And if you tell me that you're high, I will rip you apart!" John growled as he strode into the living room, still speeded up with rage. 

 

He closed the door wildly, too resultantly they slammed with a loud bang. He tried to stop them as soon as he realised what he was doing, but it was too late to stop them from making the wham. 

 

The doctor looked around the room. It looked empty, there was no one in the black armchair at the fireplace, nor at his messy desk. Where was that ridiculous man? He was nowhere to be seen, and John felt the uncomfortable sting of guilt in his stomach. He should have come back earlier, it was obvious that the detective needed him. 

 

He was about to search the kitchen and other parts of the flat when the silent whisper alerted him he wasn't alone in the room. 

" John, you came..." It was rising from the back of the living room, right beside the couch. It sounded surprised and a bit desperate, none of the baritone he was used to. 

 

" Of course I came..." The soldier took a few steps closer to the source of the voice and then he spotted him. 

 

The tall thin man was sitting on the ground, shaking, leaning over the wall, right under the yellow smiley he drew some time ago. 

 

He sat in the foetal position, he looked like he tried to shield himself from something 

His bony knees pressed against his flat chest, and on his left one - was it Billy? John's feeling of guilt even deepened, Sherlock didn't expect him to come then, that's why he replaced his skull friend instead of his real one. 

 

No wonder his lean body kept trembling - John realised that the man in front of him was soaking wet. 

His black messy hair clung to his high forehead, the curls not so obvious because they got straightened from the wetness. 

His violet lips were ajar, he breathed through them rapidly. His breath shook wildly, it sounded too fast and too shallow for normal respiration. It didn't show any signs of calming down, it grew even faster if possible...

 

In short, Sherlock Holmes was in shock. 

 

 

John frowned and his eyebrows furrowed in worry. " What happened? Why are you wet as a drowned rat?" 

 

The detective drew a shaking breath and honestly, he looked quite surprised - as if he had forgotten about his soaked clothing. " I was chasing the criminal..." He said, his voice weird. As if he was praying that John won't ask further. 

 

It was no use, the doctor never gave up. " And did you catch him? Who was it?" He inquired, nervous about what he might hear. 

 

Sherlock sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. " No, I didn't... He ran away..." His voice sounded so tiny yet so disgusted, disappointed with himself. 

 

John blinked several times, sure he misheard the answer. " What?" It wasn't possible, was it? He was Sherlock Holmes, he has always gotten the criminal to the jail... Something wrong must have happened... 

 

Sherlock gritted his teeth tightly and the tremor in his body increased. He seemed to be in such discomfort with telling John about today's event. John really didn't want to push him into something the detective didn't want to but the trembling man gave him no choice. 

The detective obligated unwillingly, his shoulders wriggled and he preoccupied his hands with scrunching the hem of his soaked shirt. 

" I chased him to the Regent's Park... I almost had him and then..." His narrow face with his marvellous cheekbones lost all of its fair colour, his piercing blue-green eyes widened, blinking rapidly as if he was trying to drive away tears. 

 

An irresistible urge to hug him close to himself almost knocked John down, to hold him in his arms, close to himself, to stroke his hair and massage his scalp... But he wasn't sure if it would help the whole situation. Sherlock was unpredictable, and as far as he knew, he didn't like to be touched, he didn't want to worsen his state right now. He decided to give him some room to explain what happened. 

 

" The storm... came down... I... I wasn't paying attention... He pushed me... down into the pond..." Sherlock managed to say, but his voice stammered because of the treacherous panting coming from his rib cage. His throat felt tight and sore, every swallow irritated his larynx. 

 

John was shocked. But he wasn't sure if which shocked him more - whether Sherlock fell into the freezing water and could be injured or the fact that the Consulting Detective was so inattentive. Sherlock always knew what was going on and especially during the case... " Are you hurt? Should I examine you?" He asked a bit loudly, almost shouting with concern. 

 

As it seemed, he won't be given the answer - Sherlock continued to shake like an aspen in the wind and closed his eyes shut as he tried to sent the anxiety away. " John..." He whined when he failed. 

 

John took a proper look at his flatmate and he wasn't happy with what he saw. Sherlock didn't look just nervous, he got a panic attack. His breath stuck in his chest as if the lump sat in his throat. The lack of air in his lungs made him breathe faster and faster, every inhale shortened after the previous one. 

" You need to calm down, Sherlock. You're hyperventilating... You have to inhale and exhale regularly, if you won't, you'll faint." He switched himself into the doctor mode. 

 

The doctor could see that Sherlock tried to do as he said, but it was no use. " Can't..." He let out a loud breathless groan. His teeth chattered, he was hypothermic without doubt, and he pressed his thighs to his torso as close as possible. 

 

John couldn't stand seeing his friend like that. He began to get up and ran his hand through Sherlock's wet hair. " Hold on..." He told him and rose up on his feet. 

 

Sherlock's reaction was immediate, abrupt and absolutely non-Sherlockish. " Where are you going?" He hated how desperate his voice sounded, panting, filled with a new amount of panic. His heart he doubted he had any, pounded at least three times faster than usual. 

John was leaving... He can't be alone, not now... He stretched out his arm to grab the leg of John's jeans but even though his limbs were long, he couldn't reach him. 

 

The doctor gave him a small comforting smile and made his way to the bathroom. " Don't worry, I'll be right back." He swore him and disappeared behind the door. 

 

Unfortunately, John's words haven't made the effect he was hoping for. 

When John came back with a blue towel, Sherlock looked even worse than a few moments ago. His Billy fell off his knee - the detective kept rocking back and forth, hugging his knees firmly. His squeezed midriff made it difficult to breathe, he began to hyperventilate. 

 

John sight with worry as he bent down in front of his friend and covered his sodden hair with a towel. He couldn't help but he reminded him of the Holy Mary with the fabric on his head. At other times he would snort at this image, but this situation was everything but normal. 

He had seen his friend in this state only once - at Dartmoor, right before their fight over friends... But now it seemed to be even worse than then. 

 

A very unusual sound, really uncharacteristic for the self-proclaimed High-functioning Sociopath, reached John's ears and cut the stream of his memories. It sounded like a... 

 

John's hairs stood on end at that noise, it was so unexpected and wrong - for Sherlock... He bent down over his friend slowly and cupped the pale face in his small palms to calm down the sobbing detective. " Sherlock... What is it? Why are you crying?" 

 

The tall man trembled underneath John's hands, his body shook with heavy sobs of fear and panic. His light weepy eyes stared into the dark blue ones and his irises darted as he searched for the clues in John's face " I don't know... It's..." He was getting to the point but he didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. 

 

The room got illuminated by the bright light of the lightning bolt and John worriedly watched his friend. In the white flashing light he seemed to be almost deadly pale, so vulnerable and fragile. His eyes were big as plates, terrified and weepy as if he was expecting something bad to happen, like the end of the world... 

 

And then there was a loud crack of thunder, still really close. It surprised John a bit, he has completely forgotten about the weather outside. Sherlock's reaction, on the other hand, was scary. He almost jumped out of his skin and yelped as he pressed his palms on his ears - he almost slapped John in the face in doing so. He squeezed his eyes shut, and whimpered, trembling all over his body. 

 

John stared at him in the disbelief. He has never seen his best friend so vulnerable and terrified, Sherlock has always been emotion-free, every time above the others, dull morons... 

" What are you scared of?" He asked, worried about him. 

 

Sherlock flinched, even though John's voice was soft. " I... I'm not..." He stuttered and tried to wipe off the tears of anxiety. 

 

The doctor sighed, knowing that the detective lied. " Sherlock, spill it... I know you too well to tell when you're fibbing..." Well, sometimes it wasn't easy to say, but this time it was so transparent... 

 

The sitting man took a deep breath and an obscure string of fast words left his cupid-shaped lips. " I'mafraidofthunderstorm..." The situation was so uncomfortable for him, he hated being human, showing emotions, exposing his weaknesses... 

 

" Sorry, what?" John has been used to Sherlock's fast monologues and deductions, but this time he couldn't catch it. 

 

Sherlock's pale cheeks blushed and he lowered his gaze on the Billy who laid on the floor. " The thunderstorm..." He admitted, embarrassed by his weakness. 

 

As soon as he said that, another bolt with thunder emphasised his words and the detective gritted his teeth to prevent the scream which threatened to come. 

He felt like a coward, especially in front of his friend who used to be a soldier... His face burned with shame, and he didn't dare to take a look at the doctor's reaction. 

 

 

John continued to stare at him. When he met with Susan and the couple headed to the restaurant, it rained. And the thunderstorm began just a while later. Which meant that Sherlock was terrified the whole time he was gone... The voice in the phone sounded scared, now he was able to distinguish the tone.

 

" Sherlock... Sherlock looks at me..." He whispered, softly. The man showed no signs of obeying, he held his head down stubbornly, avoiding John's eyes. 

 

The doctor's fingers slid under Sherlock's defined chin and lifted his face to make eye contact. " There's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone is scared of something, I've never met anyone who wouldn't be... Even soldiers in Afghanistan are afraid, you know..." Now that was true. Against his will, he remembered the fear on the front line in Afghanistan... 

 

" You're brave..." Sherlock breathed, his voice admiring. 

 

John chortled and shook his head. Did Sherlock really believe that? " And that's why you think that I'm fearless? I'm not, do you have any idea how terrified I was when I was in Afghanistan? Or with that horrible bomb-vest attached to me?" His arms covered with goosebumps at the thought of standing at the pool, with green parka decorated with explosives. 

 

" But... that's understandable, you'd be a fool if you wouldn't be frightened... It's so... pathetic to be... scared of the thunderstorm..." His voice faded into the whisper. 

 

The soldier stroked Sherlock's wet hair. " Sherlock, it's not pathetic, it makes you human... You're not a machine, you're made of flesh and bones... And furthermore, I'm sure that something has happened in the past, am I right? That's why you're scared." He suggested, knowing that experiences from the past couple affect human psyche easily. 

 

Sherlock hesitated for a while and then gave him almost invisible nod in agreement. 

 

He was still wearing the soggy clothes - the tight purple shirt looked almost black and drops of water dripped from Sherlock's well-tailored black trousers. John didn't understand why the detective hasn't changed from the freezing clothes he wore... 

 

" If you're feeling up to tell me, I'm here for you... But first, let's get you out of those wet clothes, you'll catch a cold..."

 

John reached out his hands and grabbed the man under his armpits, the place he could support him the best. He rose him up to his wobbly feet and led him to the couch because Sherlock wasn't able to stand properly his knees kept buckling.

 

He sat him down on the sofa and handed him his grey sweatpants which laid forgotten on the armrest. Sherlock thanked him and changed his soaked trousers. 

 

Sherlock sighed and began to unbutton his purple tight shirt, which clung to his lean torso even more than usual. He wasn't very successful, his hands trembled so much he wasn't able to unfasten his top. 

 

John watched a struggling detective for a while and then he took the pity on him and decided to help him. He bent down in front of his friend and with certain strong hands, he began to undo the black buttons. 

Sherlock seemed to be in such a shock he didn't even protest and let his flatmate take off his shirt. 

 

When the clothing was taken off, John couldn't resist an urge to look at the man's bare chest. 

 

Sherlock's torso looked incredibly thin and pale as if nobody cared of him. Unfortunately, that was a truth, the detective refused to eat and also sleep during the cases. Which was often... John swore himself that he'll take better care about this ridiculous man. 

 

John surfaced from his memories and focused on the panicking detective on the couch. Another thunder had to come during he was thinking about the best possible way to force Sherlock to eat something. 

 

He was shaking again, this time not only because of the fear, the goosebumps told John that he was also cold.

The doctor didn't wait for anything and immediately stripped his cuddly stripped jumper. Before the detective had a chance to look at him with a questioning face, he pulled the collar over his head and helped him into the warm clothing. 

 

It was a funny sight on him - the sweater was too short yet too baggy for his long, too skinny body for John's liking. But after all, it was no surprise that the jumper was hanged on him, after all, John was short but well-built, with muscular arms and chest. His belly may be a bit flabbier than it used to be, but it happens to the retired soldiers and he has been in much better condition than some young people... 

 

" Thanks..." Sherlock whispered as he drew the jumper closer to himself and inhaled John's nice smell of aftershave water and his shampoo, but only inconspicuously. 

 

The ex-soldier ran his hand through his blonde hair and picked up Sherlock's drenched clothes to put them on the clothesline. " Do you want some tea or something?" He asked and was about to make his way to the kitchen when a hand with long fingers wrapped around his wrist. 

 

" No, stay!... Please..." Sherlock yelped in hysteria. 

 

John turned around to look at his friend and his heart clenched as he saw the desperate detective. The fear of being alone mirrored in his beautiful eyes and John simply couldn't say no to this puppy face. 

 

He sat down beside him and put the clothes back on the floor. Sherlock seemed to relax a bit and John was glad he could help. " Don't worry, I'm right here... Nothing will happen to you..."

 

" You were right, you know? That I'm afraid of it for some reason..." The Consulting Detective paused for a few seconds as he ordered his thoughts and then continued. 

 

" When I was six, I and my family went to the countryside. I went with Mycroft for a walk to the forest. We clowned around and played children's games... Don't give me this look, we were just like normal children..." He noted when John raised his eyebrow as if he wanted to say 'Really?' 

" I wanted to play the hide and seek. We didn't know it there and I got lost. Mycroft ran home and told our parents what happened. They were looking for me the whole night. I was terrified - that night came a huge storm and gale, the trees were falling down around me, I was so scared! 

I screamed, but no one heard me..." Sherlock covered his face in his hands and his body shifted during those memories. 

" They found me in the morning... Nothing happened to me, I wasn't injured at all... But since then I don't like forests..." He remained in the position with his head covered, his cheeks burned with shame. 

 

John stretched out his hand and rubbed Sherlock's back. " Sherlock, it's normal that you're scared, especially with this trauma from your childhood... Children have a good memory and that goes twice for you... It's no surprise that you don't like this weather or the forest..." He muttered in assuring tone of his cracking voice. 

 

Sherlock jumped at another loud boom and he flushed again. " You have to think that I'm a coward..." He muttered, uncomfortable with the whole situation. And... There in the corner, the one mischievous tear appeared... 

 

John smiled at him and suddenly he couldn't stop himself from opening his arms and wrapping them around his friend. " I would never EVER think something like this, do you understand?"

Sherlock's cold body froze for a while, he didn't expect the contact. But as soon as he woke up from the shock, he realised that John was hugging him. John Watson, of all people, the soldier, Army Doctor and best, kindest and wisest man he has ever known... 

 

The doctor brought him closer to himself and pressed him on his firm chest, so Sherlock's left cheek rested on his breasts. He didn't care about what would people say, it seemed like an only right thing to do. He began to rock them back and forth as if he was carrying a baby. 

 

For a few minutes, they just sat like that, the silence got interrupted only by John's comforting whispers when Sherlock jerked occasionally at the sound of the storm. 

 

Sherlock still laid on John's chest and enjoyed the warm which radiated from his body and gave the detective an impression of the safety. But twinges of conscience didn't allow him to relax. 

" Are you still mad at me?" He asked, softly. 

 

" For what?" John asked, completely forgot about the ruined date. Sherlock gave him a glare - well, he tried to, and then John remembered. " Oh, do you mean Susan?"

 

Sherlock sneered, his face finally became more Sherlockish. " Obviously..." 

 

John frowned and laid his chin on the top of Sherlock's head. " I was really angry... It was rude to Susan, she didn't deserve it... But now I know weren't trying to ruin my date, not on purpose... I should have come back earlier..." He felt bad for shouting at him on the phone before, but he was so angry! 

 

The tall man thought for a while before closing his eyes. " I'm sorry about it, you liked her a lot..." He mumbled quietly and he really meant it. He wanted John to be happy, even though he was jealous. He deserved it, after all, he got through... 

 

The doctor shook his head and tightened his grip on Sherlock. " She was nice, but she wasn't the one..." He admitted honestly. 

 

" And... How would the woman of your dreams look like?" The detective hesitated but asked. Although he wasn't sure if he wanted to know...

 

A sly smile curled John's lips. " Well... Dark, curly hair... Pale skin... Piercing blue-green eyes which would change their colour depending on the light... Huge intellect... Tending to insult people..." John paused for a while and took a glance down at the man who tensed on his chest as he began to recognise some features of himself. And it hurt, knowing that John won't love him the way he does only because he's a man.

 

But John continued. " Very good at shooting - but not as good as me - it would hurt my ego... A bit dotty, I suppose... But actually, there's a little detail - it wouldn't be a woman... And her name would be Sherlock..." He almost whispered and dared to look in Sherlock's face. 

 

Sherlock sprang up in the sitting position and pulled away from John, his face crumpled with hurt. " Is this... s-some kind of joke?" He hated the stutter, but he could not help himself. 

 

John's eyes grew wide at hearing the always emotion-less detective sound so tiny and insecure. " What? What do you mean? Why would I be joking?" He didn't believe that, did he? 

 

The detective folded his arms on his thin chest as if he was shielding himself from his companion. " 'We're not a couple, I'm not gay' ..." He imitated John's voice in the mocking tone. " You made yourself really clear about that..." He spat, venomously. 

 

John's throat tightened with anxiety and guilt. He bowed his head and fixed his gaze on his toes. " Sherlock I'm sorry... I've never been in a relationship with man, I never wanted to be...until I met you..." He confessed. 

 

" And what does it make me so special, may I ask?" Sherlock sneered, unsure of what should he think... 

 

The soldier met Sherlock's hardened eyes and finally told him what he wanted to say for so long." I've never met anyone like you... No one as intelligent, extraordinary and brilliant as you are... I don't mind your mistakes and vices, I can survive your disgusting experiments and bloody human parts in the fridge... I can take your insults... You're the only one for me and I love you..." John choked for a moment and watched the disconcerted detective and he began to doubt himself. 

" But if you're not interested, it's fine by m-"

 

He didn't have time to finish his sentence, he was shut by a soft pair of lips which pressed against his. It lasted a couple of moments before John realised what was going on...

Oh God! Sherlock Holmes was kissing him... And he was bloody amazing! 

 

Sherlock couldn't hold himself. For the first time in his life, he didn't think and just did it... To be honest, he wanted to kiss John since the first day they met. He blamed himself for his monologue about 'being married to his Work', no wonder John was afraid of his rejection. 

 

The short man collected from the initial shock wrapped his arms around Sherlock's narrow shoulders and his right hand ran through his black curly hair. His lips began to return the intense kiss he was given. He felt Sherlock's mouth curl into the smile of victory and his hands slid over John's chest to his back. 

 

Sherlock continued to fold John's lips with passion and gentleness and it seemed like the most natural thing he has ever done. Their noses weren't getting in their way, their faces fit perfectly together like a puzzle. John tasted amazing, he guessed that he had something sweet, a cupcake perhaps... 

 

Even though the two men didn't want to, they needed to take a breath. Sherlock pulled out and his eyes twinkled with joy and amazement. He was completely breathless and so was John.

 

And then the army doctor grinned at him. " I think we have found a cure for the fear..." He purred and pressed his lips to Sherlock's. 

 


End file.
